


never again

by ms_starlight71



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Episode: s06e12 One Son, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s06e12 One Son, Smut, X-Files Porn Battle: Fucksgiving 2020 Challenge, dom scull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27851154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_starlight71/pseuds/ms_starlight71
Summary: Post-episode angsty smut for one son.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Kudos: 39





	never again

**Author's Note:**

> This was in response to the prompt below, but after re-watching the "making it personal" scene, I was too enraged by Mulder being an asshole. This came out instead. 
> 
> Prompt: After Mulder tells her she shouldn't make it personal at the TLG, she goes to a bar and gets super wasted. She gets herself a guy, sneaks him into the basement office and fucks him there. Mulder gets sent a video of it. M+S makeup smut or anger fucking.
> 
> Partially inspired by [restraint](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217516) by [kittenscully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenscully/pseuds/kittenscully) and [touched but never held](http://krycek.gossamer.org/display.php?TouchedButNeverHeld.Anton) by Rachel Anton

He braces his calloused hands on the front door, bracketing either side of her hair. He nips at the skin on her neck, marking her, sucking the tendons there with his plush lower lip. Grips the meat of her hipbone, arches it towards the door, pulls up her thin black sweater. Marvels at the contrast of her milky skin against the dark fabric. 

He pauses, drinking in the sight of the ouroboros right where he keeps his hand. The never-ending cycle of believer, skeptic, believer, skeptic. Red and bright, burning him as he stares at it. The vivid colors reflecting the fiery tone of her hair. 

He licks his lips. 

“Scully,” he husks. 

She turns her head, unable to remove her gaze from his hazel eyes fixed below, as he strokes himself in time with his breathing.

“Touch it,” she commands. He complies, bringing himself to his knees. His worship of her body, an act of contrition for his wrongdoing, his utter betrayal. 

He traces it lightly at first, the ghost of his finger pads skimming the borders of it. Scratches it gently on the next pass, the tops of his nails running against it. And then he begins to knead it, coax it, dig the heels of his hands into its contours. Her whimpers morph into moans, deeper and more needy with each new sensation. 

He is in sensory overload, flitting his eyes between where his hands lay and the swirling black hole of her aroused eyes. She arches back into him, lifts her neck to the ceiling, presents herself as an offering to the maker above. What he would give to adore her from that angle. 

She reaches behind her to grip the tufts of his hair. Forces him to meet her eyes. “Lick it,” she insists. 

He gladly devours her, mimicking the path his hands took with the wetness of his tongue. Begins to leave imprints of himself with his teeth as each hitch of her breath is interrupted by an elongated groan, filling his ears. 

She revels in it, lost in the pinpricks of his bite. Thinks he may be better than the needle that created the object of his desire. She turns her head completely now to watch him, feeling like she’s teetering on the edge. Wants to see him on his knees when she unfolds. 

“That’s it,” he mumbles into the small of her back, as he feels the heat of her gaze upon him. 

“I’m gonna…” she begins, falters, giving herself over completely. And with one last swipe of his teeth, she opens her eyes to the ceiling, chin lifted, mouth slack and open, back arched in a perfect curve. 

He is struck stupid by her, every time, never wanting it to end. Needs to watch Dana Scully orgasm every day for the rest of his life. Thinks he may need it more than oxygen. Her breathing slows as she leans her forehead onto the door. 

And before he can catch his own, she has turned to face him, one hand pulled tight in his hair, forcing his neck to look up at her. 

“Now, you’re gonna do what I say,” she growls. 

“Touch yourself,” she demands, possessive and sure. 

She delights in the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, as he brings his hand to his cock and picks up where he left off. 

“What do you want?” she asks, bracing her other hand on his shoulder to steady herself. 

“I want,” he stammers, “I want to come.” 

“I want you to beg.” 

“Please,” he whimpers. 

“Are you gonna be good?” she threatens, “are you gonna be good for me?” 

“Yes,” he croaks, his eyes wild with restraint as he slows his hand to steady his focus. 

She reaches down to grab the hand wrapped tight around his cock. Lifts it to her mouth. With careful precision, she sucks his index finger from root to tip, swirling it once as she lets it go with a pop. He groans below her, lifting his head, forced to close his eyes from the weight of her temptation. 

“Look at me.” His eyes snap back into focus. 

She takes her time then, using each finger to prolong his agony, wanting him to know how she feels when she is without him, when she is forced to chase him down, feeling laid bare and vulnerable when she puts herself on the line for him. 

His other hand is curled into a fist at his side. With each new lick, he flinches, his eyelashes fluttering in the darkness of her apartment. 

When she’s finished, she places his hand back on his cock, coated in her mouth’s wetness. 

“Please,” he whimpers under his breath. 

She nods her head, a sign he can resume his ministrations. 

He looks frantic now, unable to contain the speed of his fist moving up and down on his cock. 

“You’re gonna come for me, Mulder. I want you to look at me when you come.” 

He sobs, groaning with the weight of his arousal. She barely hears the litany of “Scully, Scully, Scully,” that he murmurs with each passing second. 

“You’re mine, Mulder. Only mine.” She pauses. “Say it.” 

“I’m yours, Scully, Only yours,” his voice betraying the confidence of his stare.

“Come for me,” she whispers, tender and intimate. 

He is unprepared for the sudden change of her tone. He brings his eyes to hers, so dark and blue, as deep and endless as the sea. He could get lost there for hours, sure as ever that the sailor in her veins would direct him to shore. 

“Only yours,” he groans as he lets go, feels himself come all over the hairs of his abdomen.

She is transfixed, licking her lips, utterly aroused by the vulnerability his body exhibits in this moment. Aware that it is a gift to see him like this. 

“Never again,” he whispers as she brings her hand to his cheek, cradles it softly. “Never again,” he whimpers with a kiss to her palm.


End file.
